


Red Candy

by bellygunnr



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bets, Candy, Fluff, M/M, winning a bet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellygunnr/pseuds/bellygunnr
Summary: Swerve is put up to a bet. Cyclonus has loosened up a lot since he first came aboard.





	Red Candy

Swerve had been put up to a bet-- grab Cyclonus' cheek jowls for 100 Shanix. Grab them, hold them for 10 seconds, get out. There were a few other rules to the bet but Swerve had demanded them to be discarded. He was not going to do anything to the purple mech without Tailgate being in his line of sight. There would be a Swerve-sized stain on the floor otherwise. And Swerve liked not being a stain on most days.

He watched the purple mech out of the corner of his optic, hands polishing a tall glass to an inch within its life. He was preoccupied with watching Tailgate arrange cubed energon goodies into a pile, trying to recreate some sort of figure. Curious, Swerve set down his glass and approached the pair.

"Whatch'ya fixing there, Tailgate?" Swerve inquired.

"I'm making Cyclonus' face... I got all these at our last stop," Tailgate chirped. His optics lit up as he remembered the experience. He took a pair of thin, long gold straws and stuck them where Cyclonus' horns would be.

"Why gold?" Cyclonus said quietly.

"Gold looks good with purple, Cyclonus. And I think they're pretty," Tailgate added. He reached for another set of goodies- light pink, squishy ones. "For your eyes."

Swerve flicked his optics between the both of them. Cyclonus' guard was completely down-- he had become distracted by his partner's color choices. Discreetly, he looked around himself. Trailcutter was dipping back into his drink.

 _100 Shanix_ , Swerve reminded him. _100 Shanix._

_Oh Primus, at least let me tell Rewind..._

The metallurgist returned to anxiously wiping down his glasses, handing out drinks to where they were necessary.

 

"There are red goodies," Cyclonus said under his breath. He plucked up one such goody with a talon, the treat glowing under the bar's many lights. He offered it to Tailgate imploringly.

"They're too hard and they're shaped wrong," Tailgate insisted. "The pink ones look better. They glow by themselves!"

This much was true. Cyclonus sighed and nodded, relenting to his minibot's color choices. He leaned in closer so that their arms touched, metal meeting metal with a light clink. Quickly, he tucked the red cube into his mouth.

Swerve appeared in front of him again. "Need another drink, Cyclonus? I see you're running low..."

Cyclonus glanced at his glass. It was still half-full.

"...No, I will be-- ack!"

Red hands clamped around the thin bar of his cheek jowls. Cyclonus turned stiff as a board-- his optics dilated, burning red, and he sank his claws into the pristine surface of the bar. Tailgate stared up in horror.

"Swerve-- _what are you doing?!_ " Tailgate cried, optics already watering. The fluid was tinged with the pink of energon sweets. "Let go of him!"

  
For Cyclonus, things had turned very small. Things had turned very quiet. His only universe was Swerve's face and the hands gripping his jaw. His only thoughts were violent, terrible ones-- he wanted to reach out and tear Swerve to pieces. But something told him that that would be... extreme.

Murder isn't always the answer. Tailgate had taught him that...

The grip tightened around his jaw. Hot air began blasting out of his throat.

Life returned to Cyclonus' frame.

  
Swerve screamed as the purple mech sprang into action-- he lunged over the bar counter, jaw unhinging from its latch. A serpentine tongue shot from the depths of his throat, undulating wildly, equipped with a tiny pair of claws. It swept dangerously close to his optical visor.

"Holy--! Oh my god!"

Behind them, Rewind was recording. Trailcutter cashed 100 Shanix into his account. Tailgate was hanging onto the purple demon's arm, trying to weigh him down.

He failed, of course. Cyclonus whipped around to screech at Rewind next, claws splayed out to either side of him. He hissed directly into his camera before abruptly deflating, jaw clicking back into place.

"Swerve," he growled slowly. Hot air issued from his jowls, distorting his voice. "Do not ever do that again."

The silence in the bar was deafening.

Tailgate sank down, putting a hand over his white face plate. He knew something the others didn't-- Cyclonus had _enjoyed_ his little hissy fit.


End file.
